


The Disasster Artist

by kellan (heyitskj)



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Rated M for Language and Sexual Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-12 17:19:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12964473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitskj/pseuds/kellan
Summary: Tweek and Craig's one-year anniversary is in three days. Can Craig prepare himself for what Tweek has in mind by then?





	The Disasster Artist

[Begin in the elementary school’s CAFETERIA during lunchtime. STAN, KYLE, CARTMAN, BUTTERS, CLYDE, and CRAIG sit at a table, eating cafeteria food or bag lunches. TWEEK joins them with his own tray and a disposable coffee cup.]

CRAIG: Tweek, how many cups of coffee have you had so far today?

TWEEK: Only three, _mom_. 

CRAIG: Good. 

TWEEK: Speaking of three…

[Tweek looks at Craig expectantly. Craig looks up in thought and counts on his fingers.] 

CRAIG: Our anniversary’s in three days, isn’t it?

TWEEK: Yup! A whole year.

CARTMAN: _Blech_. What are you gonna do, pound each other’s butts all night long?

[Tweek shoots Cartman a concerned look. Craig flips him off.]

TWEEK: I got you something! Amazon said it should be coming in the mail really soon. It's something big. I think you’ll like it!

CARTMAN: Psst. Kyle.

[CARTMAN catches KYLE’s eye, then begins jamming two of his fingers into the closed fist of his other hand repeatedly, while tilting his head towards Tweek and Craig.]

KYLE: Stop.

TWEEK: At least, I hope you’ll like it… what if you don’t like it?

CARTMAN: Kyle.

[CARTMAN changes the hand gesture to his middle finger twisting around inside the loose grip of his other hand, while still tilting his head towards Tweek and Craig.]

KYLE, annoyed: Stop. 

CRAIG: I’m sure I’ll love it, babe. [He puts a reassuring hand on Tweek’s shoulder. Tweek seems comforted by this, and starts eating.] 

[CARTMAN changes the hand gesture to involve further suggestive movements and thrusts between fingers, none of which have any established meaning, while still tilting his head towards Tweek and Craig.] 

KYLE, more annoyed: Stop it. What’s that even supposed to mean?

* * *

 [Cut to the TUCKER’s house after school. Craig is in his room, sitting on the floor doing homework with the door open. LAURA AND THOMAS TUCKER appear in the door's frame.] 

LAURA: Sweetie, did you order a package? This was left on our lawn. 

[LAURA holds a package with some dirt and grass stains, water damage, and dents on its surface.] 

CRAIG: Oh, that must be what Tweek got me.

[Craig stands up to take the package, and Laura passes it to him.]

THOMAS: That damn mailman must have just chucked it into our yard. No respect these days…

[Craig shakes the box. It’s about half as big as he is.]

LAURA: Oh, go ahead and open it, sweetie! Can we see what your little boyfriend got you?

[Laura and Thomas stand side by side, looking excitedly at their son. Craig accepts the inevitable. He kneels in front of the box and unceremoniously tears through the outer packaging, removes cushioning boards, and digs through a pile of foam peanuts until his hand strikes something. He pulls out a comically oversized purple dildo, about 1/3 of his height. A logo on the side reads ‘THE PREPARATOR.’

The Tuckers are shocked silent. The parents look at each other. Craig looks at his parents, worried.]

LAURA: …Excuse us for one minute, sweetheart.

[The two adults shut the door on Craig and stand in the hallway.]

LAURA: Thomas, what does this mean?

THOMAS: I don’t-I don’t know. 

LAURA: Well, what are we going to do?

THOMAS: Stay calm, Laura, we’ve supported our son this far and we can support him now, too.

LAURA: You don’t mean we just… Thomas, he’s too young!

THOMAS: We… _don’t know_ how gay people work, Laura. We just don’t.

LAURA: Oh Thomas… you need to talk to him, and make sure our son is being safe!

[Thomas re-enters the room where Craig is still holding the dildo at arms length, frozen.]

THOMAS: Uh, hey, sport, that’s sure… something special, isn’t it? 

CRAIG: I’m really confused.

THOMAS: Now, son, it’s alright, I’m sure this is normal! 

CRAIG: It is?

THOMAS: Sure, I think your little boyfriend is just trying to… court you.

CRAIG: ‘Court me.’ 

[Craig looks at the giant dildo, and sets it back in its box.]

[Thomas walks over to Craig’s bed and sits down, patting the space to his left.

THOMAS: Take a seat, son, let’s have a little talk.

[Craig climbs up after him.]

THOMAS: Now, son, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they do something called “making love.”

[Craig seems uncomfortable.]

THOMAS: But when a man and another man do the same thing, it’s called… “having buttsex.” It’s a beautiful thing, and nothing to be ashamed of, and Tweek wants you to be ready for that.

CRAIG: But dad, I don’t even know-

THOMAS: It’s okay, son. I want to help you. So, the first thing two men do is… uh… 

[Thomas trails off, trying to come up with something.]

THOMAS: Well, they… you know.

[Craig is still looking at him.]

THOMAS: It’s-it’s the birds and the bees! Or-or maybe for gay people it’s just the bees…

CRAIG: Bees? 

THOMAS: Yeah. You know… [He puts his index fingers together in a vague gesture.] Y’know, bees… 

CRAIG: …No, I don’t.

[Thomas looks crestfallen.]

THOMAS: I- I’ve let you down, son. I’m sorry! 

[He flees the room dramatically. Craig does not move from the bed.]

* * *

 [Meanwhile, RANDY MARSH and Stan pull into the parking lot of a Home Depot.] 

RANDY: Alright bud, you sure you don’t wanna come in and look at the cool power tools? It might get a little warm in the car. 

STAN: Nah.

RANDY: Okay, I shouldn’t be more than forty minutes, you can use the car charger if you need it. Don’t unlock the door for anyone, got it?

STAN: ‘Kay.

[Stan already has his iPhone out and is tapping away on it as Randy gets out and locks the doors behind him. Stan sinks back a little further in his seat.

An indeterminate amount of time passes, and Stan is starting to drift off, phone in hand. Just as his eyes close and stay shut, the quiet is suddenly pierced by the car window cracking once, twice, and then being smashed apart. Several shadows and voices can be heard outside, and arms reach into the car towards Stan

STAN: Jesus Christ, what?!

[Stan tries to back away, but an arm eventually grabs hold of his leg and drags him out.]

[An UNKNOWN WOMAN holds Stan up, a look of fierce victory on her face.]

UNKNOWN WOMAN: We got him!

[The group of adults cheer and shout.

Randy approaches from the Home Depot, and drops his bags when he sees the group.]

RANDY: Stan? STAAAN?! LET GO OF STAN!

[Randy thrashes, but two group members hold him back.]

UNKNOWN WOMAN: So, this is _your_ child, huh? 

RANDY: Yes, that’s my Stan! Unhand him!

UNKNOWN MAN: Don’t you know that every year thousands of children and animals _die_ as a result of being left alone in cars?

UNKNOWN WOMAN 2: That’s right! They can overheat, or dehydrate, or starve, or be abducted! 

STAN: Yeah, that’s what you’re doing to me, right now. Put me down.

RANDY: Look, I wasn’t even gone for an hour, don’t you think this is a little-

UNKNOWN MAN 2: This poor boy could have died! Thank God we got to him in time!

[A man shouts from futher down the parking lot. He points at a car.]

UNKNOWN MAN 3: We’ve got another one over here!

UNKNOWN MAN: My god. Hurry, everyone! Hurry!

[Seeming to forget about Stan, the Unknown Woman sets him down and hurries off. Randy and Stan, deeply confused, watch them go.]

* * *

[Cut to Randy and Stan driving home, both shivering from the wind coming in through the busted window. The two speak more loudly than usual, to talk over the wind.]

STAN: What was THAT about?

RANDY, annoyed: I don’t know, maybe some new scare going around on the news. Let’s just get home. I’ve gotta get gas, first, though.

* * *

[Cut to Randy and Stan rolling into a gas station. They come to a stop, and Randy unbuckles his seatbelt.] 

RANDY: Could you climb in the back and see if you can find my rewards card? I think it’s in the back seat pocket.

[Randy exits the car and takes his wallet out of his pocket. Stan climbs in the back. After a moment of searching, he finds it.]

STAN: Yeah, here it is- 

[Stan is interrupted by another window being smashed. A mob has appeared on the passenger side of the car, shouting.]

RANDY, turning around: Oh-Oh, god damn it!

[They begin pulling Stan out of the window. Once they have wrested him outside, they cheer victoriously.

MOB WOMAN: You think you can just leave your child unattended in a car like that?! 

RANDY: I’m GETTING GAS. I’m RIGHT HERE.

MOB MAN: Did you know, that every year, thousands of- 

RANDY: Yes, I know, I know! Gawl!

* * *

[Cut to the Channel 4 News. An animated placecard that reads ’PARKED CARS: KILLING YOUR KIDS?’ plays.]

TOM THOMPSON: Following the example of activists who have smashed windows to rescue dogs left in parked cars in the sun, new groups that rescue children from the same circumstances are now popping up. Here to tell you more is People Person.

PEOPLE PERSON: Thanks Tom, I’m standing outside of Costco where seven children have already been rescued this afternoon. 

[Relevant clips of on-the-scene footage play.]

PEOPLE PERSON: Young kids were found in cars with internal temperatures as high as 80 degrees, surrounded by shattered glass. They were clearly frightened, and crying for their parents. Thank god these groups got to them in time. Back to you, Tom.

* * *

[Cut to the Tucker’s house later that evening. A couple cars with makeshift covers and duct tape on their windows are parked on the street outside. GERALD BROFLOVSKI, STUART MCCORMICK, Randy, and Thomas are gathered in the Tucker’s basement, sitting on assorted old seating and drinking beer.]

THOMAS: Thanks for coming over, guys.

GERALD, curiously: You sounded pretty upset over the phone, what’s going on?

RANDY: Yeah, you mentioned something about your son?

THOMAS: Yeah. Now, I consider myself an ally of the gay community and I think I’ve come a long way in accepting and being proud of my son, but, well, he’s gotten to a point in his relationship where I need to have… ’the talk’ with him.

[The other men make sympathetic but encouraging noises.]

GERALD: Every dad’s fear.

RANDY: We’ve all been there. 

THOMAS: Well, as it turns out, I don’t really know anything about… you know… buttsex. 

[The other men are silent.]

RANDY, chuckling: Well, I mean, it’s still just the same old ‘talk,’ right? How different could it possibly be from straight sex? 

STUART: Yeah, when two guys are in love, they just… [He seems to realize something.] You know…

GERALD: Right. They just… [Realizing the same thing, he makes a few vague hand gestures.] …You know? 

RANDY: Yeah. [He holds up one hand.] One of them… you know… and the other… [He holds up the other hand.] you know. [He shrugs.]

[Thomas looks at them expectantly. They look back at him.] 

THOMAS: …They _what_?

RANDY: Hmm.

[The men look at the floor in deep, concerned thought.]

GERALD: Should we get Tweek’s father? Maybe he knows.

THOMAS: I don’t know if the boys want to keep this a secret from Richard or not, though. I mean, maybe he’s not as _cool_ about this stuff as I am.

RANDY: Wait a minute. I think we already know someone who can help us. But it’ll have to wait ’til tomorrow.

* * *

[Cut to SOUTH PARK ELEMENTARY, the next day. The hallways are filled with chattering students walking or standing by their lockers. Craig is at his, taking out a notebook, when Tweek approaches him.]

TWEEK: Hi, Craig!

[Craig jumps, startled.]

CRAIG: Oh, hey, Tweek. [He closes his locker.]

[Tweek holds out his hand for Craig to take. Craig hesitates before taking it, and the two begin to walk slowly.]

TWEEK: Uh, kind of a weird question, but when would be a good time to come over on Friday? I don’t want to bother your parents or Tricia, and what I’ve got planned might be a little bit loud. 

CRAIG: We’re-we’re doing it at my place?

TWEEK: Yeah, your room makes the most sense. 

[Craig grows increasingly concerned.] 

CRAIG: I’ll… ask my parents.

[Craig pulls his hand away from Tweek’s to scratch at his neck.]

TWEEK: Aalright, cool. Are you okay, dude? 

CRAIG: Oh, yeah, totally. Totally.

* * *

Cut to outside the school. The recess bell rings, and Craig heads outside among a crowd of other students, trying to avoid running into anyone. In doing so, he heads off towards the side of the school. He there sees Thomas, Randy, Gerald, and Stuart in a huddle by the wall, evidently trying to stay out of sight.]

CRAIG: Dad? What the hell are you doing here?

THOMAS: Oh, uh- hell-hello son! We were just out for a walk, getting some fresh air.

[The other men back him up with “yup”s and “uh-huh”s.]

[Craig pauses, not buying it at all, but drops the issue.]

CRAIG: Look, dad, y’know how it’s me and Tweek’s anniversary tomorrow?

THOMAS: Yes, and I’m working on-

CRAIG: Tweek’s coming over and said he wants you and mom to celebrate with us, so can you please get home as early as possible that day? 

THOMAS: Oh, w-well sure, son. You sure you two don’t want some more… privacy?

CRAIG: No, we don’t need any. Tweek really wants you guys to be home then. Okay? Great. Bye.

[Craig hurries off. The men watch him leave.]

STUART: He seems pretty nervous.

THOMAS: Yeah, poor boy.

RANDY: The coast looks clear, let’s go.

* * *

[The men move around the school’s perimeter. A group of female Asian students sit on the steps at the side of the school, quietly drawing in sketchbooks or on tablets, or are reading graphic novels. Occasionally, a few of them whisper back and forth to each other. Thomas, Randy, Gerald and Stuart approach them. The girls do not acknowledge their presence, and the other men look at Thomas.] 

THOMAS, stepping forward: Uh… hello.

[The girls look up at him, expressionless.] 

THOMAS, earnestly: Listen, you don’t know me personally, but I’ve bought many of your people’s artworks. You helped my son discover who he really is a long time ago, and I was hoping you could help me help him one more time. Where do you learn what you know about gay couples? 

[The girls continue to stare, expressionless. Randy steps forward and puts a hand on Thomas’s shoulder.] 

RANDY: Let me try, I know a little Asian.

[Randy clears his throat.] 

RANDY: Ko-nichi-wa. Ra-men. Mmm. Ne?

[The girls stare.]

RANDY: Uh, uh, t-tienes yaoi? …Learn. How. Butt-sex. Ya-o-i. [He gestures emphatically.]

[The girls stare. Eventually, three of them consult with each other in Chinese. Seeming to decide on something, those three scoot off to the sides to reveal a stack of what appear to be comic books. There is a suggestive drawing of two male anime characters on the cover of the top book.] 

GERALD: That must be it! Wow, great job Randy! 

RANDY, excitedly: We’ll take it, we’ll take it! 

[One of the girls holds one hand out, palm up. Thomas takes out his wallet and places a few bills in her hand. She then flips through the stack, pulls out a few of the books, and hands them to Thomas.] 

THOMAS: Thank you! Ar-i-gato! 

[The men walk away, smiling. Once they are off screen, the girl holding the money and the girl to her side speak to each other in perfect English.]

GIRL 2: Who were those men?

GIRL 1: I don’t know, perverts? I got 80 dollars.

GIRL 2: Neat.

* * *

[Cut to the Tucker’s house. The men have reconvened in the basement and each have one of the newly-acquired yaoi books in hand. They are scrutinizing the pages: their expressions range from disbelief, to amazement, to shock, and they hold and turn the books at different angles.] 

GERALD: This is so strange, I had no idea! 

RANDY: I don’t know what they’re saying, but this guy stuck ONE finger up another guy’s butt and he jizzed all over the place! Twice! 

GERALD: Mine’s in English, one guy tells the other to… ‘pound his pleasure hole until his anus is tingling with excitement.’ 

[The men all murmur in wonder at this.] 

STUART: You think that’s weird? In this one, they do everything backwards! They START with the buttsex, and then the butt-fingering, and then they make out.

[They murmur again. Thomas looks troubled.]

GERALD: Geeze, this really IS different from normal sex.

STUART: How come straight people can’t do stuff like this?

RANDY, putting a hand on Thomas’s shoulder: It… must be hard having a son on the yaoi spectrum.

THOMAS, with determination: I’m not giving up! My son needs me.

GERALD: We’ll help you, buddy. We’ll figure this out.

* * *

[Cut to the NEIGHBORHOOD. Craig is walking down the street, deep in thought. As he passes by the Cartman residence, a faint buzzing noise catches his attention, and he walks over to investigate.

He hops the fence to Eric’s yard and confirms his suspicions: a beehive hangs in the yard’s lone tree. Checking over his shoulder to see if anyone has seen him, Craig heads towards it.

He shimmies up the tree until he is as close to the hive as he can get. Craig waits to see if anything happens. It appears to be a normal hive, buzzing loudly with hundreds of bees. Craig leans in and squints.

A close up reveals structures that resemble honeycomb-colored military bases. Zooming in even further on one base, more details that suggest army activity become visible. Troops of bees march in formation, one bee with traffic cones and a bee wearing a lieutenant’s hat direct squadrons of bees to taxi off runways and take flight. 

A group of nearly-identical worker bees and their superior come to a halt from their jog around some training grounds. 

SUPERIOR BEE: Alright, good work today, trainees. You’ll be flying for the Queen in no time. Except you, Jones, if you don’t clean up your act.

[JONES, who has a deformed wing, looks guilty.]

SUPERIOR BEE: Hit the showers then hit the sack, it’s another big day tomorrow. Hanover, Bates, Sneideker, you’ve got cleaning duty at 5 AM. Jones, Martinez, and… Beezley… be ready for pollen field work first thing in the morning. 

WORKER BEES: Sir, yes, sir!

[Cut to the BEE BARRACKS. The six worker bees are in their bunks in cramped quarters.

HANOVER: Hey Martinez, if you’ll take over cleaning duty for me, I’ll make it worth your while…

MARTINEZ: Hell no, man, I ain’t sloggin’ through all that crap for you again.

HANOVER: Aw, come on, I know what you like.

JONES: I’ll take you up on that.

HANOVER: Alright, going once, going twice, gone.

[Hanover scoots down to Jones’ bed.]

MARTINEZ: Hey, wait, what the hell, I want in too.

BEEZLEY: G-guys, we shouldn’t be doing this.

BATES: Shut up, Beezley.

HANOVER: Yeah, what the hell kind of stupid name is Beezley anyway?

BEEZLEY: We’re supposed to be loyal to the Queen, and the Queen alone!

MARTINEZ: Come on, man, we all know that’s a bunch of crap. Do you really buy the story that the Queen’s gonna screw all of us some day? Fat chance. We’re never gonna get any poon. 

JONES: Yeah, it’s not our fault there are eighteen hundred male bees here and one queen. We have needs, too. 

[The bees other than Beezley murmur in agreement.]

BEEZLEY: Well, count me out. 

BATES: Act as high and mighty as you want, Beezley, we all know what we did last week. We were all there. 

BEEZLEY: …Don’t remind me, please.

[Beezley rolls over to face the wall in his bunk.]

BATES: Just the six of us, no one else in the world, trying things we’ve never gotten to try before, living in the moment… is that really so wrong? 

MARTINEZ: Beez, I know we give you a hard time, but it wouldn’t be the same without you. We’re all great servants to the Queen, hell, we’re one of the best squads in this entire place. Being with another worker bee doesn’t mean you aren’t a hell of a soldier.

[Beezley considers this, and sits up.] 

BEEZLEY: …You guys are right. I guess… I guess if this is wrong, I don’t want to be right!

[The other bees cheer, and begin climbing into each others' bunks.]

[Cut back to Craig, who has been watching all of this. He climbs back down the tree and heads halfway across the yard. He then chucks a nearby rock at the hive, and walks off as hundreds of tiny screams and explosions sound from the fallen hive.]

* * *

Later, Randy and Stan are driving home together. The sky is foggy and gray. Randy looks straight ahead, while Stan looks out the window. The radio is set to a news station.]

RADIO VOICE: …and that’s how one brave two-year-old was able to keep the rest of her family from being eaten by grizzly bears. In other local news, reports are coming in that the Sears at the South Park Mall will finally be closing its doors this Sunday.

RANDY: Wait, what? [He turns up the volume.]

RADIO VOICE: The entire store’s inventory is now on sale for 30, 20, and even 10 percent of original sale price. And we’ve just received confirmation that yes, there _was_ a Sears at the mall, it’s just that nobody ever went there.

RANDY, shutting the radio off: Shit.

STAN: What.

RANDY, urgently: Stanley, I-I have to stop at the mall.

[Randy puts on his turn signal and steers slightly right.]

STAN: What? No, dad! Just drop me off at home first!

RANDY: I _can’t_ , Stan, it’s right on the way home! You’ll have to come in with me!

STAN: No, it’s totally lame to go to the mall with your parents, I can’t do that! 

RANDY: I’m sorry Stan, I have no choice! [Randy pulls out his cellphone and begins dialing a number.]

RANDY, urgently: Gerald? Gerald, did you hear? They’re closing the Sears at the mall, the deals are going to be unbeatable. Yes. Yes, there was a Sears at the mall, apparently. Yes, I'm out with my son too. Yes, call everyone. 

STAN: Dad?!

RANDY, looking skyward: Oh god… oh god, why?

[Cut to the mall parking lot. There are several cars parked, a few of them with adults standing by them, talking through the window to someone.] 

[Cut to Randy and Stan, sitting in the parked car, looking uneasy. Stan has moved to the back seats, and Randy is turned around in the front seat speaking to him.]

STAN: Dad, can’t I go to Kyle’s car? I’m pretty sure I saw it, like, five spots away over there. 

RANDY: You are NOT to leave this car, you hear me? Okay, the doors are locked, the window is cracked, you have your iPhone and your iPad, chargers, and your snacks?

[Cut to Stan, surrounded by packaged food and electronic devices.]

STAN, unhappily: Yeah.

RANDY: Remember to STAY DOWN. And here’s your water bowl, make sure to keep it somewhere they can see it, okay?

[Randy pulls a dog’s water bowl out from between the car seats and sets it on the dashboard.]

STAN: Okay.

RANDY, squaring his shoulders: Alright.

[Randy exits the car, tests the door handle, then speaks to Stan through the crack in the window.]

RANDY, emotionally: Be strong, Stan. Remember, Daddy always loved you.

[Randy slowly backs away from the car, looking anguished, before turning and walking away.]

[Stan watches his father through window, frowning, before sinking back to the car seat, and then down to the floor of the car. It is quiet and he looks around uncertainly, waiting to see if something will happen, before picking up the iPad and beginning to tap on its surface.] 

* * *

 [Cut to the Tucker’s house. Craig sits in the living room, watching the Channel 4 News.] 

TOM THOMPSON: Reports of children, infants and animals being rescued from certain death by activists are continuing to pour in from all over the nation. The fastest rescue to date goes to Kelly Blakeringer, who was rescued after being abandoned in a record 2.2 seconds. 

[A clip plays of a young mother exiting a car, smiling. She starts to walk away, and the car is immediately surrounded by an angry mob. The window smashed and a frightened young girl crying “Mommy!” is pulled out by one of the mob members. The young mother quickly notices and begins pleading, “No! I was just going to the parking meter! THE PARKING METER!”]

[The phone on the couch next to Craig vibrates twice. Craig turns down the volume on the TV and picks up.]

CRAIG: Hello?

THOMAS: Son, it’s your father. Your mother and I were just stopping to pick up some things at the grocery store, but there’s… a huge sale at Sears, son, we have to go.

[Craig’s expression sinks.] 

CRAIG: What?

THOMAS: Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but there really was a Sears at the mall.

CRAIG: You guys have to get home. Tweek will be here soon, remember? 

LAURA: Sorry honey, but this is really important. You’ll understand someday. We’ll still get home as soon as we can, alright pumpkin? 

[The call ends, and almost immediately, the doorbell rings. Craig freezes. After another ring, Craig gets down from the couch and approaches the door. He gulps, then answers it.

Tweek stands on the front steps, holding a square cardboard box a little taller than he is. He is mostly hidden behind it, and has to tilt his head and lean to see around it.] 

TWEEK: Hey, Craig! 

CRAIG: Heey, Tweek. What’s that?

TWEEK: It’s a surprise! But, uh, could you help me get it upstairs, this stuff’s a bit heavy…

CRAIG: Sure, sure. 

[Craig realizes something.] 

CRAIG: Um, actually, could you hang on for just one second?

TWEEK: Oh, uh, okay. 

[Craig rushes upstairs to his room. He pulls the package containing the unused PREPARATOR out from under his bed.]

CRAIG: Crap, he’s gonna think I didn’t like it.

[Dildo in hand, Craig zips to his parents’ room, rummages around in their top dresser drawer, and pulls out a small bottle of jelly. He returns to his room and hastily tosses both items onto his nightstand, then speeds back downstairs, only slowing down once within Tweek’s view. Tweek is now struggling under the weight of the box.] 

CRAIG: Alright, um, let’s get this upstairs. 

[The two make their way upstairs with the box between them, and then into Craig’s room.] 

TWEEK: Alright-here’s good.

[Near the center of the room, the two set the box down. Craig is struggling to not let his nerves show.]

TWEEK: Well, this is something you’ve mentioned you’ve wanted for a while now, so I thought I’d… um, gah, I don’t know. I f-feel like I’m building this up way too much.

CRAIG: …No. 

TWEEK: It’s not a big deal.

CRAIG: Yeah.

TWEEK: We just haven’t really celebrated our other anniversaries much, so I wanted this one to be… to be, to be…

[Tweek trails off, having noticed the giant dildo and lube bottle on the nightstand. After a long pause, Craig pretends to notice what Tweek is looking at.]

CRAIG: Oh, yeah, uh, I forgot to mention, that got here in the mail the other day.

[Craig walks over and “casually” knocks it into his backpack, so it’ll be out of view.]

CRAIG: I, uh… just used it this morning.

TWEEK: You-you did? 

CRAIG: Yyep, it. Works, really nicely. It’s great.

TWEEK: …Wow.

[Tweek seems overwhelmed. He turns his attention towards the box.]

 TWEEK: U-um… uh, well, anyway? I guess I’ll-

CRAIG: Um, wait, Tweek… hold on. I have to tell you something. 

[Tweek turns to look at Craig. He can’t help glancing nervously in the direction of the dildo for a moment.]

TWEEK: What is it?

[Craig hesitates. Tweek waits anxiously.]

TWEEK: …Y-you can talk to me, Craig.

[Craig inhales as if to speak, pauses, then stuffs a few pieces of clothing into his backpack, and briskly leaves the room.]

TWEEK: Craig? Craig??

[Craig heads down the stairs, out the front door, and down the street.]

* * *

[Craig, out of breath and looking tired, is walking on the side of the road in an indistinct location. Mist shrouds the environment, and his breath hangs in the air. He continues forward until faint music off to his left catches his attention. He walks toward it to investigate. 

[The Marsh’s car comes into view, music pouring through the crack in the window. A Tim McGraw song gains in volume as Craig approaches the car, and pulls the handle on the back door.] 

[Cut to Stan, still on the iPad, sitting on the floor of the car across from where Craig is, leaning against the interior of the car door. STAN looks up to acknowledge the intruder, looking slightly alarmed.]

STAN, incredulously: Oh, hey Craig. Did my dad leave the door unlocked?

CRAIG: Yes. Are you listening to Tim McGraw again? 

[Stan hits the pause button on his iPad.] 

STAN, slightly defensively: No.

CRAIG: Okay. 

STAN: What’s going on? Shut the door, I don’t wanna get in trouble.

[Craig climbs into the car, shuts the door, and takes a seat across from Stan. He sighs and looks down.]

STAN: Well?

CRAIG: My boyfriend wants to do something with me. 

STAN: Do what? 

CRAIG: Buttsex.

STAN: Oh. Wait, Cartman was right? [He seems taken aback by this revelation.]

CRAIG: I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to disappoint Tweek, but I need more time. I don’t feel ready. And I really, really hate bees.

STAN: Huh? 

CRAIG: It’s a gay thing.

STAN: Oh. Well, I don’t know about buttsex either, but I don’t think he’ll be mad at you for that, y’know? Tweek’s not like that.

CRAIG: No, a few days ago he said he’s got something exciting in mind for our anniversary, but he won’t tell me what it is, and now he seems stressed out. 

[Craig rests his head in his hands.]

STAN: He’s always stressed out. 

CRAIG: And he mailed me a giant dildo.

STAN: Oh.

CRAIG: Yeah. So I have to hide for a few days.

STAN: …No, that’s stupid. I’ll go talk to him, I think his dad’s car is like, right over there.

CRAIG: Huh?

[The conversation is interrupted by smashing glass overhead on both sides, and the kids duck down. The sound of several voices shouting pours in, and arms begin reaching in for them.]

STAN: AHHH! 

CRAIG: Dude, what the fuck?!

[A few of the arms eventually succeed in pulling the children out.

MAN IN MOB 1: Oh, just look at this! TWO poor abandoned children, it makes me SICK!

WOMAN IN MOB 1: Who knows how long they’ve been in there for?! 

STAN, frightened: Twenty-three minutes, it was twenty-three minutes and thirty-four seconds! The door was unlocked, you didn’t even have to break the window!

[Stan tries to show the mob the timer screen on his iPhone, but they pay no heed.] 

MAN IN MOB 2: Children left alone in an unlocked car? 

MAN IN MOB 3: They could have DIED! Or worse, been abducted!

[The mob rabbles angrily. Several of the parents of South Park begin returning from the mall, pushing flatbeds with boxed furniture or with shopping bags in hand. Randy pauses when he sees the crowd around his car, and then rushes in to investigate. Some of the other kids left in nearby cars begin to emerge as well.]

RANDY: Stan? Staaan?!

STAN: I’m right here, dad. [Speaking to the man holding him] Can you put me down?

RANDY: Stanley! My boy! 

MAN IN MOB 1: You again. You think you can just abuse your children like this? 

[The man holds up Stan and roughly waves him in Randy’s face.]

RANDY, insistently: The window was cracked! He had snacks and entertainment!

WOMAN IN MOB 2: And what if someone broke into the car through that crack, huh? 

RANDY: Oh, so now cracking the window’s a _bad_ thing?

[The arguing continues, and Craig, still being held by Woman In Mob 2, notices his father advancing through the crowd of parents.] 

THOMAS: Craig? Craig, you’re here! I’ve got so much to tell you, I know what you need to do now! 

[Craig stares for a moment before wriggling free from the woman’s grasp and walking briskly in the opposite direction. He doesn’t get far before he sees Tweek in his path, looking around nervously. Craig stops, and Tweek notices him.]

TWEEK: Dude, there you are. My parents were helping me look for you, but then they heard about this thing at the mall… what are _you_ doing here? 

CRAIG: Oh-oh, hey. Um. Nothing. 

[Tweek seems irritated.]

TWEEK: Do you not want to do this today, or something? Are you mad at me?

CRAIG: It's not- no.

TWEEK: Okay? Then let's go.

[Tweek approaches Craig, takes his hand, and starts walking away. Craig hesitates, then pulls his hand away.]

CRAIG: No, Tweek!

[Tweek turns back around to face him, looking anxious.] 

Tweek: ‘No’? Wh-why?

Thomas: Craig, buddy, hold up! 

[Craig turns around to see his father pursuing him, grinning expectantly and waving one of the yaoi books. Laura is not far behind.]

[Craig pauses, considers his options, then finds his resolve.]

CRAIG: I don’t want to have buttsex with you, Tweek.

[This statement somehow overpowers the sound of all the nearby rabbling, and everyone turns to look at Craig. Thomas stops in his tracks, stunned. The crowd falls silent.]

[Craig looks unsure of himself, and crosses his arms.]

CRAIG: There, I said it. 

TWEEK: …What?!

CRAIG: Look, I know it’s what we’re _expected_ to do, and it’s what I’m supposed to _want_ to do, but I just… don’t! You didn’t even ask me how _I_ felt about it before deciding that’s what _you_ wanted!

TWEEK, more emphatically: What!?

CRAIG: I know you wanted to do it today-

TWEEK: Oh god!

CRAIG: -but it’s just going to have to wait!

TWEEK: Ah!

CRAIG: Take your stupid dildo back!

[Craig pulls the large dildo out of his backpack and chucks it at Tweek’s feet, where it bounces a few times before coming to rest. Tweek is grinding his teeth and shivering. The crowd hangs silent for a long moment.] 

[LIANE CARTMAN steps forward through the crowd.]

LIANE: Oh my, is that the Purple Preparator 3000 version 2.3? 

CRAIG, angrily: Yeah.

LIANE: Huh, I ordered that same model a couple weeks ago, but it never got here, even though Amazon said the drone had delivered it. 

CRAIG: A-a drone?

[Laura and Thomas Tucker look at each other significantly.]

LIANE: Does it have five thrust speeds and two vibrators, one at the base and one at the tip, with customized ribbing and optional secretion tube? 

CRAIG: …Yes.

LIANE: Well how strange.

ROGER DONOVAN: Clyde actually found a broken drone in our yard the other day, I didn’t think much of it, I know the Tuckers have that anti-drone security system thing…

[A few of the onlookers and fourth-grade boys make “ooh” and “hmm” sounds.] 

[Craig looks worriedly at Liane before looking back at Tweek, who is intermittently pulling at his shirt, his hair, and trembling.] 

CRAIG: You… didn’t send me a dildo.

TWEEK, exploding: OF COURSE I DIDN’T SEND YOU A DILDO! ARE YOU STUPID! WHY WOULD I DO SOMETHING LIKE- 

CRAIG: Woah, okay, Tweek, honey-

TWEEK: DON’T YOU ‘HONEY’ ME! IS THIS A JOKE? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?! AAGH! 

CRAIG: Wait, wait, wait, Tweek, Tweek.

[TWEEK struggles for a bit before Craig can manage to put a hand on his shoulder, then pushes him off again.] 

TWEEK: Don’t touch me! 

CRAIG: Look, Tweek, I was wrong. But you know, I, uh, learned something today. 

[Craig looks past Tweek’s shoulder and catches Kyle’s eye in the crowd. Kyle looks around nervously, and then gestures for Craig to keep talking.]

CRAIG: …I learned that you were right, communication is really important. If you make assumptions about other people, it doesn’t matter if they’re strangers or someone you’re really close to, you can get caught up in your own paranoia and damage your connections and relationships for no good reason. 

[The mob crowd and the parents look at each other.] 

[Tweek is still twitching, but takes a deep breath. He doesn’t look at Craig.]

TWEEK, strained: For our anniversary, I ordered a new cage for Stripe. That’s what I brought over in the box. I thought it was pretty cool and I wanted it to be a surprise so we could build it together. I knew it would be kind of loud, so I wanted to get it done when it wouldn’t be a bother to your parents or sister. Happy anniversary. 

[Tweek looks hurt, and Craig looks deeply remorseful. They both look away.]

CRAIG: I know I wasted most of our anniversary, and I regret that. I was so caught up in my own worries I didn’t even think to get anything for you. I really, really apologize. 

CRAIG, hopefully: But, there’s still time to go back to my house and start putting the cage together. I would love to do that with you.

[Tweek considers it.]

TWEEK: No…

CRAIG: …No?

TWEEK: I don’t want to. You kind of ruined my day, man. I just want to go home and calm down. 

[Craig looks at him silently for a moment before looking at his feet, resigned.] 

CRAIG: Okay. 

[Tweek begins walking away from him. Craig doesn’t move. The crowd remains silent.]

TWEEK: But…

[Tweek turns back to Craig briefly.]

TWEEK: …It’s okay if you call me tomorrow and… _if_ I’m feeling better— _maybe—_ we can do it then. Okay?

[Craig processes this, then smiles.]

CRAIG: Okay.

[Tweek flashes Craig a small, reassuring smile. He walks through the crowd towards his parents, who are looking down warmly at him. They walk towards their car.]

MAN IN MOB 4: You know… those two homosexual boys respecting each other’s boundaries has made me reconsider breaking into people’s cars.

WOMAN IN MOB 3: Yeah… you’re right. This is a free country. Who are we to judge if two parents want to leave their child to die?

WOMAN IN MOB 4: Right, we don’t know them! Maybe they have good reasons for starving their children to death.

MAN IN MOB 5: We shouldn’t assume we know someone else’s motives until we ask.

[Murmurs of agreement spread through the mob.]

MAN IN MOB 1: We’re sorry for breaking into your cars.

RANDY: That’s alright. I think we all learned a valuable lesson about how breaking and entering a man’s car, or a man’s butthole, is wrong without clear consent.

[The crowd exchanges celebratory agreements, and then begins to disperse. Liane discreetly retrieves the dildo from the ground. Craig, Stan, Kyle, and Cartman are left in the clearing.]

STAN: Well, I’m glad everything worked out. Do you think you and Tweek are gonna be okay?

CRAIG: I hope so.

KYLE: Dude, what was going on? We weren’t here for most of it.

STAN: I dunno, emotional development and learning from your mistakes and stuff, I guess.

KYLE, sincerely: Huh! That sounds… gay. 

CARTMAN, smiling wholesomely: Yeah.

[Stan, Kyle, and Cartman begin walking away, their voices trailing off. Craig watches them go.]

STAN: Yeah, it was. Wanna ride back in my dad’s car?

CARTMAN: Nah, there’s a bunch of pissed-off bees in my yard, I gotta go do something about that…

* * *

[Cut to the Tucker’s house. Night has fallen, and crickets are chirping.

Craig lies awake in his bed in the dark, contemplating the day.

He grabs his phone off his nightstand, and presses a button to turn the home screen on.

The phone’s background is a photo of Craig and Tweek, dressed as their superhero personas. Super Craig is holding the phone to take the picture, and Wonder Tweek is holding Stripe in his pirate costume up to be in the shot. Both are smiling brightly. The phone’s clock changes from 11:59 to 12:00.

Craig returns the phone, and lays back down, feeling love and new resolve swell inside him. He crosses his arms behind his head, grinning.] 

END

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something kinda-sorta like an episode transcript. Attitudes towards LGBT topics in this fic do not reflect my own. Thanks for reading!


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